


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by stvnbcky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captain America: The First Avenger, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Reunions, Steve and Bucky are both idiots, Wholesome, sam wilson is an amazing friend, short one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:44:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stvnbcky/pseuds/stvnbcky
Summary: Bucky is delirious when Steve rescues him from the Hydra facility in Austria and is convinced he is dreaming.Seventy years later, Steve faces a similar dilemma when Bucky drifts back into his life after a fruitless search.





	1. Chapter 1

Say nighty-night and kiss me  
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me  
While I'm alone and blue as can be  
Dream a little dream of me

\- Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

 

"Sergeant 3-2-5-5-7...Sergeant 3-2-5-5-7..." It was an endless mantra but Bucky feared that if he stopped they would break him. They'd already fucked with his head, putting images in his mind that made him afraid to close him eyes. They'd messed with his body too, pumping chemicals into him until he felt sick and woozy. His sanity was all he had left and he wasn't going to lose it without a fight. 

The metal slab beneath him was cold and clinical, much like his captors. Bucky was stuck in an endless loop of shivering violently, whispering his rank and serial number into the unyielding darkness until he expended all energy, passed out into a fitful sleep, woke up and the cycle repeated.

"Bucky? Oh, my god."

Steve. Steve was here. Except he wasn't. It was never real, he was never real, always an illusion conjured up by his drugged-up brain, much like a mirage in a desert. But, as always, Bucky played along. It was the only respite he had from the boredom and torture.

He could feel Steve pulling at the restraints holding him to the cool table he was laid upon. He could also feel his hands, solid and strong upon his chest. It all felt so real this time, he felt giddy with it, drunk and delirious on the welcomed warmth of his best friend's touch.

"It's me, it's Steve" he whispered, voice sweet like an angel. Bucky's eyes followed the voice and Steve's face briefly swam into view. 

"Steve?" Bucky replied hoarsely, a smile reaching his lips. As fucked up as it might be, he enjoyed playing along and relishing in a brief taste of freedom, as artificial as it may be.

"Come on" Steve said, urgency creeping into his tone as he hauled Bucky off of the table and into his arms. He looked Bucky over, head to toe, checking for injuries and then sighed in relief. His shoulders sagged as if weight had been lifted from them upon seeing his best friend was in good health. 

Bucky took this moment to take Steve in. He was...different? Taller, broader and stronger. He looked the healthiest he'd seen him since they'd met over a decade ago. Bucky didn't have long to mull this over before Steve's hand came up to grip his neck firmly and surely, voice cracking as he gasped "I thought you were dead".

"I thought you were smaller" Bucky quipped, jarred by Steve's new form but also fairly unsurprised as the mind can conjure up some weird shit. He could get used to this new Dream Steve as much as he missed the little guy from Brooklyn too dumb to run away from a fight.

Steve reluctantly pulled his eyes away, surveying the exits, clearly planning the next stage of their escape. Bucky smiled, reaching up to gently cup his face and pull it so their gazes met once more. "Buck?" Steve questioned carefully, voice lowering as if this moment were a secret, a conspiracy for them to tuck away and cherish later.

"Nothin'" Bucky drawled smoothly, he enjoyed this part the most, even though it always felt somewhat wrong. It was hard to simulate kissing someone in a dream when you've never kissed them before, but it was better than nothing. He leaned up, having to stand on the tips of his toes, and drew Steve's face downwards to press their lips together.

At this point they usually kissed without abandon- passionate, hot and heavy until he was pulled out of delirium into the harsh reality of his current situation. This time, it was different. As Bucky's lips touched Steve's, he was met with uncertainty. Steve's lips were still against his own for several agonising moments until he pressed back, softly, carefully, as if he were calculating every moment like a tricky problem in his morning crossword. 

Bucky pulled back, frowning. "I can do better than that" he said, a smirk playing at his mouth and he leant up once more, resuming their kiss. This time Steve was much more responsive, still shaken but eager to please. They kissed closed mouth, exploring each other. Steve's hands fumbled awkwardly at his sides in such a 'Steve' way that Bucky laughed into his mouth and attempted to open the kiss. Steve made a sound of approval and returned the gesture for a brief moment before pulling away sharply, as if burned by the reminder of their current predicament. 

Bucky blinked at the loss, confused and already missing the soft warmth that contrasted the cold atmosphere in the facility. Steve cleared his throat and, stepping back, his hand reached upwards to touch his lips. Bucky frowned, this was not how his dreams usually panned out. Unless this was a nightmare? He shuddered at the thought.

Before Bucky could act, Steve grabbed his arm and tugged him towards an open door, "Come on, we gotta go.” This was weird. Really weird. They'd never tried to leave before? Was this a simulation, conjured up by hydra to target his deepest fears and desires?

"Am I dreaming?" Bucky asked. He'd never had to ask before, he usually just knew. But now, he wasn't so sure.

Steve looked back briefly with a frown of confusion as he hurried them along a deserted hallway. "No Buck, you're not dreaming. Come on, we need to get outta here, the place is gonna blow."

Not dreaming? That was...impossible. Steve couldn't actually be here in the flesh looking like a motherfucking Adonis. Unless...he wasn't dreaming. And he'd just kissed Steve. Fuck. Shit. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Fear bubbled up within his chest as the reality of the situation hit him. "Jesus Christ" he whispered. "Oh Jesus Christ!", his voice now rising in panic as he realised the gravity of the situation. 

Steve began to slow down at the distress in Bucky's tone. "Buck? What's the matter? Are you hurt?" Steve asked, his voice growing concerned. When he didn't get a response, he stopped abruptly and grabbed Bucky's shoulder, peering down into his face. "Bucky" he said sharply, "Are you okay? Tell me you're okay.”

"I-I'm okay" Bucky rasped and Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "I..." he trailed off having no clue how to fix this. Jesus Christ, he was such a fucking idiot. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn't worried about being court martialed, he knew Steve would never sell him out. What he cares about was that he'd just ruined the most important relationship in his life. Without Steve, Bucky felt purposeless, empty, unfulfilled. Losing him felt worse than being strapped to that frozen table and being poked and prodded for the rest of his life.

"Oh god Steve, I'm so sorry for what I did back there...I-I thought it was a dream so I just-" He swallowed thickly, unable to meet Steve's eyes as he continued "I don't even know, I'm an idiot and I'm just so fucking sorry. Please forget this. Please don't hate me. I can't live in a world where you hate me, Steve, I just fucking can't." Jesus Christ, he sounded so fucking desperate. He reached up to wipe away the tears of emotion that had started to spill during his outburst, frustrated that they'd appeared.

Steve stared for a moment, dumbfounded, before laughing softly, an amused smile reaching his lips. Bucky instantly felt cold, bitter anger welling up inside of him. How could Steve laugh at him? Wasn't he better than that?

But then he reached a hand down to cup Bucky's face, "No Buck, I'm the idiot." Bucky finally met his eyes, confused. "I'm the idiot because I shoulda done this a long time ago" he said before pressing a quick searing kiss to his stunned lips. "And how could you think I'd ever hate you Bucky? Even when I've got nothing, I've got you. Till the end of the line, remember?"

Bucky sniffed and then laughed. God, they were both idiots. "Yeah of course I remember" he grinned, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck and pressing a quick peck to the corner of his lips. "I love you" he said. “I’m so fucking in love with you, Steve, you have no idea.” It felt so exhilarating to say out loud after pining for so long and Steve's big dopey smile told him that hearing it was just as exhilarating.

“I think I do have an inkling” Steve replied affectionately, "I love you too", and oh god, hearing it really was just as exhilarating. Steve then pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and laughed "But, we gotta go if we wanna make it out of here in one piece". Bucky chuckled, thinking it was fitting of them to be having this discussion whilst the world was falling apart around them.

"Race ya?" Bucky teased, raising his eyebrows, and he really should've known better because Steve's eyes just narrowed competitively in response. 

"You're on" Steve said before pulling away abruptly and tearing it down the hall. "Come on slow coach we ain't got all day!" he called over his shoulder and Bucky, smiling to himself, took off straight after him without looking back. 

*

They didn't get time to themselves to discuss what had happened in the facility until days later. In the agonising wait, all they could do was share meaningful glances and brush shoulders as they marched towards their destination. 

Finally, they reached the army base and, as Bucky hoped, Steve was celebrated by his peers. Although, he would still always think that Steve deserved just as much admiration during his pre-serum days. Captain America was cool and all but Steve Rogers was the man he was hopelessly in love with, sick and frail or healthy and strong, he did not care.

They got their moment that evening at a local bar with cheap booze and some good music. The festivities were in full swing and Bucky was sure nobody was listening so he leaned closer to Steve and said quietly "So, you an' me, huh?".

Steve smiled shyly in response, ducking his head. "Yeah, I want that" he replied, to which Bucky reciprocated with an equally bashful smile.

"Good. Me too." He said, unable to believe his dreams had finally come true. He then pinched his arm firmly with his forefinger and thumb, "Ow!"

"Whadd'ya do that for?" Steve laughed, shaking his head at this crazy man he had fallen in love with.

Bucky grinned, looking up, into the face of the man he had loved so much for the longest time, thinking it was unrequited. "Just had to make sure this was real.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is delirious when Steve rescues him from the Hydra facility in Austria and is convinced he is dreaming.
> 
> Seventy years later, Steve faces a similar dilemma when Bucky drifts back into his life after a fruitless search.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you  
But in your dreams whatever they be  
Dream a little dream of me

\- Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong 

70 Years Later

Steve ran his hands through his unkempt golden hair, gritting his teeth in frustration. He stared at the array of documents, maps and photographs laid haphazardly around him, feeling as if the answer were right under his nose, teasing and chastising him for his fruitless efforts. Steve had been tracking Bucky for nearly two years and the trail had gone cold months ago. He tried to return home as often as possible, resume his suburban life and fulfil his duties as a superhero, as expected by the world. He couldn't keep himself away for long though, Bucky's absence an incessant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn't shake. 

"Dammit!" Steve yelled, slamming his hand on the desk, causing papers to scatter and fall. "Fuck" he muttered under his breath, internally cursing as he reached to collect the useless files that had fallen to the floor. Behind him, Sam sat bemused and unflinching, used to Steve's occasional outbursts of frustration by now.

"Hey man" Sam started gently, feeling the need to be careful when Steve was in this mood. "I know this is hard for you but you really need to take a break. You've been at this for hours." Steve huffed and Sam couldn't help but chuckle, Steve was a stubborn son of a bitch but he'd grown to become fond of his antics. "He's not going anywhere" Sam continued softly, and he realised the poor choice of words as soon as they left his lips, Steve's head snapping up to meet his eyes with a steely gaze.

"He's not going anywhere? If that were true I would've found him a hell of a long time ago!" He snapped, furious. He reached for a world map, littered with colourful tacks, and continued rambling on in anger. "New York, France, Germany, Indiana, Portugal, Bulgaria, Minneapolis, Italy, Romania, Texas..." Steve rattled the names of each and every place they had followed Bucky, losing him barely every time, always one step behind. 

Sam waited patiently for Steve to finish, as he always did. Steve often felt guilty that he took Sam's patience and kindness for granted, he sure as hell knew that a lot of people would've left him to search alone a long time ago, but not Sam. "He always comes back to the US" Sam answered, pointedly. 

Steve groaned, irritated, "Yeah and I wanna know why!"

Sam smiled sympathetically, "What can I say, he's a strange guy", he shrugged. "You wanna know my theory though?" Steve looked up wearily, nodding his assent. "I think that he's looking out for you when you come home." Steve rolled his eyes, scoffing in disbelief. "I'm serious!", Sam said, "He doesn't need to perch outside Stark tower and stare into your window to do that, Steve. He can get intel pretty much anywhere he wants, he'd know if you're in danger. You ever thought it was a weird coincidence that he's always in America when you're taking a break from the search?" Steve didn't respond. "Look buddy, this guy? He clearly doesn't want to be found. At least, not yet. Now I know your stubborn ass won't give up either way, but at least take a break, let your suspenders down, or whatever you old fucks used to say." Steve chuckled at this, quietly agreeing with Sam's words but disliking them nonetheless. 

 

"Look", Sam continued, pulling on his trainers "I'm going to go for a walk and stretch my legs for a bit. You're welcome to come with?" Sam offered, already anticipating Steve's refusal.

"Thanks Sam but I don't think I'm feeling up to it" he answered.

"Alright, then at least promise me you'll rest up for a bit, hell knows you deserve it" Sam responded as he pulled on his jacket. Steve nodded in response, smirking as he crossed over his heart with a finger. Sam chuckled, "See ya later". 

Steve waved as Sam left, groaning as the door clicked shut. He glanced at the notes strewn before him but faltered. A promise is a promise. Sighing, he pulled on his own shoes and a jacket, already having made his mind up on how he would take a break.

The air was crisp and cool as Steve stepped out onto the roof, glad he had brought that jacket. He ambled over towards the railings and leaned on them heavily, taking in the city view. It was breath-taking, as long as you didn't look too closely at the graffiti that littered building walls and listen too intently to the impatient traffic. He closed his eyes, breathing in the foul polluted air of Brooklyn that he recognised so well. This was where Bucky's trail had gone cold, Steve was sure this meant something. Maybe it was a riddle or a code that he was meant to decipher? "Where are you Bucky?" He sighed quietly under his breath, as if attempting to pass a message to him along the brisk wind.

"Right here, punk" he heard behind him. Steve stiffened, heart racing. This was it, huh? This was his breaking point. He's lost his bloody mind. He laughed darkly under his breath, he'd lost everything and everyone in his life and now he's losing his sanity. Fucking typical. 

He turned around, meeting the eyes of the man he'd been searching for, for what felt like forever. He laughed again, unable to help it. So now he wasn't just hearing things, he was seeing them too? Unless he was dreaming? Most of his dreams these days occupied Bucky so he wouldn't be surprised. Although he felt much too lucid to be sure.

"Steve?" Bucky asked tentatively, surprised by Steve's reaction to his presence. Steve, however, ignored this and took the time to look him up and down. Bucky had cleaned up quite nicely since the incident on the Helicarrier. His hair was cropped short and clean, much like that of his former self. He was not clean shaven but his stubble only looked days old. He was dressed in civilian clothing, a pair of black denim jeans and a red henley, donning a single black glove upon his left hand. Steve was surprised, he was unsure what image of Bucky his mind would allude him with and he definitely did not anticipate this.

“Hey Buck” Steve muttered dumbly, mind reeling with doubts. “It’s been a while”, he said pointedly.

“Yeah, you’re right” Bucky sighed, “And I’m sorry for that Steve, genuinely, but I had to screw my head on straight before coming home.”

Steve huffed in response, feeling unsatisfied. His brain really couldn’t come up with something better? Something like, ‘Sorry Steve, I was captured and held hostage by what’s left of hydra and they’ve put out fake trails for you to follow since’. Or if we’re really being truthful about Steve’s true thoughts on Bucky’s whereabouts, ‘Sorry Steve, I just didn’t want to spend time with the person that got me captured and tortured for 70 years when I could be out experiencing the modern world’. Maybe his subconscious was just taking it easy but that bothered him, it reminded him of when Sam spoke to him as if he were made of porcelain initially after the events on the helicarrier.

“So that’s it, huh? That’s why you’ve been MIA for two whole years? Not one note or attempt at a message to tell me you’re okay?” Steve accused, unsure as to why he was speaking to this figment of his imagination instead of returning to the motel room and calling it a day.

Bucky hung his head, guilt seeping into his tone as he replied, “You’re right about that too.” Bucky laughed, “You’re always right. About everything. Never cease to amaze me, pal.” Hm, at least this illusion of Bucky was flattering. Bucky sighed, “Look, I know it ain’t a good excuse but I was dismantling what was left of hydra and leaving a message could’ve put you at risk. It wasn’t worth it Steve, I’m sorry.”

A long silence hung heavy between the pair as Steve contemplated calling Sam and telling him he was having visions. Except that would just make him worry, better to just return to bed. He began to make his way down but Bucky continued speaking. “Look, I don’t know if this changes anything but I kept tabs on you all this time, coming back here to the US to make sure you’re settled and happy when you weren’t out looking for me” Steve stopped and looked up at Bucky, surprised by his outburst. Maybe he really was here and Sam, that sonuvabitch had been right...Or maybe he wasn’t real and this confession had been due to his conversation with aforementioned sonuvabitch only minutes prior. Jesus Christ...

Despite his niggling doubts, Steve stayed. “Really?” He whispered softly and smiled as he spoke “You didn’t just forget about little ol’ me?”

Bucky laughed, “Looking out for you has always been my job, you think I’m gonna quit now?” He grinned and Steve returned the gesture. Reality or not, this was the most complete he’d felt in months. “C’mere you big lug” Bucky said, opening out his arms, and Steve didn’t hesitate to cross the length between them and pull the love of his life into a bone crushing hug. Bucky chuckled, “Missed you too buddy but you’re crushing my delicate super soldier body”. 

Steve laughed, tears prickling at his eyes and leaking into the shoulder of Bucky’s shirt that smelled so familiar, it was jarring. “Shut up, jerk” he replied fondly, pulling away enough to meet his eyes. There was a beat, thick with tension, before their lips finally collided after seventy years of being apart.

They kissed like it was the first time, they kissed like it was their last, and they also kissed like no time had passed at all. It was all consuming. Steve felt like he was being swallowed whole, like flames engulfing newspaper until there is nothing left but embers and ash. Once again, he was stricken by his lack of sureness in his own sanity, but it felt so real. Bucky was here, pressed against him flesh to flesh, soul to soul, after nearly a century and Steve prayed to God this wasn’t a dream. If it were, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the aftermath.

“Shh, Stevie, it’s okay. M’here now, m’here.” Bucky whispered softly, pressing feather-light kisses over his temple, eyelids, nose, jaw and neck. Only then was Steve aware that he was crying. Loudly- heaving, in fact, old grief for the man he loved bubbling up once more. Bucky pulled back and met his eyes, a strong hand gripping his face firmly and surely. “M’here pal, okay? And I ain’t going nowhere. Not without you, anyway.” Bucky smiled.

Steve’s breath caught, memories of a building on the cusp of explosion and Bucky crying ‘No, not without you!’ racing in his mind. Bucky had been loyal for as long as he could remember, the only person to stick by his side when the going got tough. “You left me.” He answered, aware of his petulance, but still feeling cheated all the same.

“I know, baby, I know. And I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. Starting with coming home and getting your ass some rest.” Bucky replied sincerely in a familiar tone of concern. “You look like shit, Steve” he whispered guiltily.

“You know how to make a guy feel special, jerk.” Steve laughed, hoping a jokey reply would show he was no longer angry. He could never stay mad at Bucky, no matter how hard he tried. Bucky grinned in response and it honest to god felt like Steve was staring at a ghost. But it wasn’t a ghost, Bucky was here in the flesh, handsome and charming as ever. Except, Steve couldn’t keep the doubt out of his mind that this wasn’t real. That this was just a cruel illusion conjured up by his sleep deprived mind and the real Bucky was out there, living his life without Steve. Not needing him nor wanting him.

“Is this-“ Steve stammered, suddenly unsure of himself, of his surroundings and of the man standing before him. “Is this real? Are-are you real? Or is this just a dream all inside my head?” He asked, fear creeping into his tone. Real or not, he couldn’t let Bucky go. If he did, he’d surely break. At least he’d no longer be a burden on Sam.

Except Bucky just laughed, sure and true, a radiant smile blossoming as he spoke, “Of course this is real, moron.” Bucky suddenly grabbed Steve by the shoulders, digging his flesh and gloved metal fingers into them. “This is real, I’m real and we’re here, together. Till the end of the line, remember?” Bucky peered carefully into Steve’s face, searching for any lingering doubts, but he was met instead with relief and, in what was likely the first time in a long time, elation.

“Yeah, ‘course I remember” he replied, fondly. “I love you, jerk.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s brow, finally feeling complete once again.

“I love you too, punk.”

*  
“Hey man, what’ve you been up to while I was go- HOLY SHIT!” Sam gasped as he returned from his walk to find James Buchanan Barnes sitting in their crappy motel room and, more importantly, asleep and snuggled in the arms of his best friend. He didn’t even know murderous assassins could snuggle!

“Hey Sam” Steve replied nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just had a mental breakdown over the whereabouts of the man laying in his arms just an hour before. 

“Don’t you ‘Hey Sam!’ me! What the fuck is going on here? I’ve been gone an HOUR and you find him? Where was he? Hiding under the fucking bed?” Sam exclaimed, frustrated. He knew Bucky had made himself known because he wanted to and despite the fact he had said to Steve he understood the guy, he couldn’t help but feel angry at him for abandoning his friend for two years. 

Steve just laughed, breathlessly, seemingly giddy with the turn of events. “Crazy, huh? I was on the roof and he just popped up. You were right. He was watching over me and he came to me when he was ready.” Steve seemed pretty chilled despite his outburst not long ago but Sam was hardly surprised. Steve had a habit of being bad at holding grudges.

Sam sighed, his frustration melting. Steve was finally happy and that’s truly what mattered. “Sorry man, it’s just been a long ass day.”

Steve laughed, “Tell me about it.” A lull of silence fell between them. “It almost doesn’t feel real.” He admitted. Sam then crossed the distance between them and pinched Steve’s forearm, hard. “Ow! Whadd’ya do that to me for?” He asked, dumbfounded. Sam smiled, knowingly.

“Now you know it’s real.” he said in his best Therapist Voice. Steve chuckled, grateful for having a friend like Sam that understood him so well. “Anyway, I’m beat. Get some sleep, he’s definitely not going anywhere.” Sam said, stripping down to his underwear and slipping under the covers of the other twin motel bed.

Steve smiled, “I know.” He replied, settling comfortably into his own bed, careful not to wake Bucky. “Night, Sam” he said and seconds later, his body drifted into the most peaceful sleep he’d had in months.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little random ficlet inspired by the theory that Bucky most likely thought he was dreaming at first when Steve rescued him. It just spiralled from there into this mess! This is my first published fanfiction so I’d appreciate feedback, good and bad!
> 
> The song lyrics are taken from ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’ by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.


End file.
